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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613478">Beyond the Mulberry Wall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kowanabo/pseuds/Kowanabo'>Kowanabo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lord of the Flies - William Golding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:27:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kowanabo/pseuds/Kowanabo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Something I started writing for my own well being back in summer 2019, haha. This is some three, four years after the events of the island. Simon and Piggy are alive, with the rest of the bigguns.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beyond the Mulberry Wall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> <em>1- Disagreements</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>The sun bore down on the neck of an athletic and broad blonde boy as he walked home from school. Especially on a sunny day like that day, he appreciated another soul tailgating with him. To fill that role, he was accompanied by a much.. stouter boy, to put it nicely. The fair boy, Ralph, skipped along the stones and curb of the sidewalk as he spoke, his eyes not leaving his bounding feet.</p>
<p>“‘Meant to meet Jack at Q again today, dunno if he’ll show- since he stood us up last time.”</p>
<p>The fat boy, known as and only appreciated by the nickname ‘Piggy’, nodded. He’d anticipated this. Far too busy thinking to combat a reflex rooted deep in his childhood, he pushed the thick, round glasses (that hadn’t been falling) on up his nose bridge.</p>
<p>Though Ralph wasn’t typically one to fast forward through small talk, ‘Q’ was the shortening of ‘HQ’, first shortened from ‘headquarters’ when laziness crossed excitement. The other really... wasn’t as eager to talk about this. The mention of this boy in particular was one Piggy wished Ralph would make instantaneous, if not… nonexistent. Typically the fat boy wouldn’t linger on it if he didn’t have to, but always, somehow, he came up. No matter the lingering. He’d much rather be talking about the holiday, Halloween tonight.</p>
<p>“You know the nasty thing won’t show up long as I’m along.”</p>
<p>Piggy said, honesty in his distaste. With his arms outstretched for balance, the blonde boy continued carefully across the curb. The shorter boy stayed put on the pavement, watching him with textbooks and a novel in his hands.</p>
<p>“I wouldn’t say nasty.”</p>
<p>Ralph considered. Quietly Piggy griped.</p>
<p>“‘Course you wouldn’t.”</p>
<p>Their gazes exchanged positions, the fat boy’s on his path and the fair boy’s on his friend. Ralph’s arms seemed to retreat back to a position of safety on the straps of his backpack.</p>
<p>“What do you mean? He’s got less wicked.”</p>
<p>Ralph commented, in reference to their unfortunate history. Piggy blew out his cheeks and sighed, his books transferring to one arm as he pulled his glasses from his ears and wiped their lenses on his trousers.</p>
<p>They were even thicker than they were the day the boys met. The glass. That injury of his nearly blinded him, but thankfully, at least through the spectacles, he was sighted. Against the odds, he was alright. His impaired sight was the worst of what damage his small body retained. Which was nothing new. Migraines all the while, sure. But everyboy’s mind was warped beyond comparison.</p>
<p>Now they were all sixteen, or seventeen going on the big one-eight, and truthfully, the boy in question <em> was </em> less beastly. (Thanks to therapy). However, that didn’t mean he didn’t still have one of the shortest tempers out there, and a still ever growing ego— Even three years later. Ralph couldn’t seem to consider the antagonism Piggy was victim to, just as he was many moons ago. To him, rehabilitation was an incubator all the other bigguns had went through, and when they popped out, they were faultless.</p>
<p>“—But no less cheeky. Talks too much, him. I don’t like talking to him, I don’t, unless I got to.”</p>
<p>“Only because you talk enough for two boys. Two girls even!”</p>
<p>“S’why I’d rather talk to Roger. Or Simon. ‘S’why I talk to‘em ‘nstead of Jack, when I can.”</p>
<p>At this, Ralph was quiet.</p>
<p>Piggy was rereading the summary on the novel for maybe the millionth time. It was the last in the series, that’s all Ralph knew. A brit book series, the first film for it was to come out in a month. Piggy was obsessed with the book; he knew everything about it- unlike Ralph. Something about wizards.</p>
<p>His squinted glare didn’t depart from his friend’s wondrous expression once it glided up there. His own attractive face seemed to suck in in discomfort as a memory pinched him.</p>
<p>The mummy-like bandages that swaddled most of the fat boy’s face for the worser half of his recovery returned. The transparent snakes responsible for shocking breath back into his sickly body seemed to slither back through his mouth, and his nostrils. Ralph witnessed his lips move, but Piggy’s voice met water; his words a blur.</p>
<p>With his fists clenched around the strings of his bag, the fair boy winced as a kettle might whistle. Ironically, Ralph went through the least rehabilitation; too sick with worry about the rest of the herd to let them understand.</p>
<p>He was furious to remember the long nights he stayed accompanying Piggy in the hospital after what Roger did to him. He wouldn’t sleep, or see movies, or catch games. Even if Piggy had begged him over and over to go play like the other boys.</p>
<p>The fair boy couldn’t forget what… or who left his friend in such a helpless state. He wouldn’t even if he wanted to. But Jack, he was alright.</p>
<p>With the quick return of his glasses, a hum left Piggy’s lips.</p>
<p>“We was quick this time. ‘Walk is only getting shorter, feels like.”</p>
<p>For the blondie, this came as a warning too late. Ralph nearly hurtled into the pavement at the end of the curb, as a consequence of his lack in coordination. This was all brought upon by the drawstring bag tied to his back.</p>
<p>The smog invading his mind curtly cleared at the drop of a mallet, and his thoughts shattered like glass. He hobbled his dress shoes steady just before he could topple over.</p>
<p>They had arrived at Piggy’s aunt’s.</p>
<p>Jack lived just next door, unfortunately for the fat boy. HQ was a treehouse... tree-<em>club</em>-house, on the border between their yards. After the island, Piggy established a begrudgingly stubborn fear of heights..among many other things- and gave up the fight for the freehold. (Also on account of his trouble even climbing the blasted thing). Jack thought if anybody’s yard, his was the most appropriate- and his alone. Still it stood, using the mulberry wall to creep into Piggy’s grounds.</p>
<p>They sort of ...shared authority. Jack had complained about the mess the plant made at first, but that was the one thing the fat boy refused to let Jack cheat him out of. Its ‘coolness’ only grew with it, and it stood intimidatingly enough to outsiders that nowadays, Jack didn’t mind all that much.</p>
<p>That hedge of mulberry was Piggy’s memorial for the boy they had lost on the island. Not that he was the only thing they lost, but likely the most important. The most regretful.</p>
<p>Piggy thought for a moment. The fair boy was beside him, pulling up his knee-high socks in the feeling of needing to recollect his dignity.</p>
<p>“Auntie said five! Bring your getup, she ‘nvited everyboy!”</p>
<p>With an anxious, teethless smile turning up the corners of his pale lips, the fat boy came to his blonde friend and embraced his side awkwardly. Ralph’s personal discord seemed to melt away as Piggy’s words impressioned in him. He hadn’t seen a genuine grin out of Piggy in weeks, the face was a rare sight, and Ralph enjoyed seeing it! Of course!  Anything to replace those sour memories— but Ralph could sense secrecy about why he was so pleased. Reading this slowed him down.</p>
<p>“Right… you’re really not gonna ‘company me the rest of the way?”</p>
<p>He breathed, with a palm catching hold of a plump forearm.</p>
<p>Piggy paused at the contact. Blinking, he froze up until he could conjure up the strength to carry out refusing. He started by pulling whatever hold Ralph had on him free. Pink hands rubbed pinker cheeks.</p>
<p>“I meant what I said, Ralph. Merridew won’t talk business w’me round. If you want any meaning out of that talk, I can’t be there. You know that.”</p>
<p>Of course the fair boy knew. But by capturing his gaze through the prescribed glass, which Piggy didn’t seem to appreciate, he kept his question suspended well past the word.</p>
<p>“B’sides, I got ….things to finish…. before holiday!”  </p>
<p>dismissed Piggy.</p>
<p>While accepting this defeat, which he didn’t think was fairly traded, Ralph let his eyes wander up Piggy’s home and the old oak tree. It was an antique looking house, the yellow paint faded with age. But it was in a way, his second home.</p>
<p>Piggy’s auntie treated the boys like her own since the day they returned. This remained true even when they disagreed, and consequently quarreled.<br/>(This was a lot, no amount of rehabilitation could squash that out). And that was comforting. Some would say the island made them all a bit dotty, and odd. Maybe so at first, but Ralph thought it was all normal now. What they’d been through both astonished and ...frightened classmates. The girls, mostly. To see one after such a time was like coming back from a summer home and seeing the does frolic in winter. You wanted to reach out and touch one, but they were of their own environment, and lives. Not to be interrupted. Not unless they discerned you themselves. But Ralph supposed he was more concerned with watching over his friends. He had no time to sit and wait for deer. These boys were his family. His brothers.</p>
<p>Except, at the moment...it proved an inwardly… dissatisfying feat to think of the other bigguns as such. But then, what were they? With a shake of his head, Ralph decided these thoughts were an irrelevance. He was making up anxieties.</p>
<p>Heat welled up in his face, as did embarrassment that Piggy might have noticed his forlonging. Which he had. The fat boy’s eyes glinted with a hint of concern, and his head tilted. Ralph’s mouth fell open, as he wanted to speak, but any direction he had fell flat. In his hesitance instead, he watched the fat boy whirl around on his heel, a hand in the pocket of his trousers.</p>
<p>Obviously Piggy was more accustomed to functioning with extra anchoring weight. His backpack made little dent on his pursuit. After feeling about, Piggy pulled a chain of keys out from under the flap. Hurriedly he combed through the ring, until he snuffed out the key in question. He fumbled, in his haste, to unlock the tall spruce door. It was quite ridiculously rushed, Ralph thought, as Piggy’s body squeezed through the opening and revolved back around ...As if  he seemed to recall a second presence. Hardly giving him a chance, Piggy, through a tight, polite grin, nodded to his fair friend.</p>
<p>“Good day!”</p>
<p>His glasses flashed as the door overwhelmed his image. Ralph had been abandoned to stare closely at wood.</p>
<p>Never had his chest felt so tight in an exchange with the stout boy. He huffed in an attempt to liberate some of the tension in his lungs, which took a time, then he stepped off to the left of the old home.</p>
<p>Using a yellow wall for leverage, he hoisted himself up onto the white fence and caught wind of faint talk from inside.</p>
<p>A voice he knew by heart to be Piggy’s, and then... a second, that he couldn’t place. It was familiar, certainly. But without words, Ralph was left to wonder. He came to a stop on the height of the fence, attempting to listen. But in as soon as a few minutes, his stillness was interrupted by the uncomfortable sensation of sweat and the burning of muscle, as intended by the sun. Its glaring light and the weight of his luggage wore his patience thin, and the voices seemed to only be getting fainter. Exercise did this to him now. He didn’t rightly cage off the events of the island into any space in his mind, and so any reminder of the blistering heat and grime made him irritable. One thing he was sure to get rid of, though, was the slightest possible chance of hair getting into his eyes again. His haircuts since then have been considerably silly, the top was a length like grass, and the back was a bit longer. This resulted in the look of almost perpetual pre-mulletedness. He felt this yellow fringe on the back of his head, as it grew damp with sweat.</p>
<p>In giving up, he released himself back onto the ground, now in the fat boy’s yard, and stole for the shade provided by the old oak. The mulberry bushes extended in a circle a few yards forward and around the tree, forming a coarse wall on all sides. Within the wall, there were dead tree stumps (also circling the old oak) that made for splendid seating. By the boys’ definition, the stumps were ever so sacred. But not as sacred as headquarters. Of course, there was a hierarchy for sacred-ness. What was, and wasn’t considered headquarters proved jumbled sometimes, especially when Littluns got involved. Oftentimes the bigguns were obligated to include boys younger than they liked. Begrudgingly they’d be allowed through the mulberry wall, but you had to be a biggun to climb the old oak.</p>
<p>Only members of the herd knew of the space in the hedge where the roots edged and one could slip through. Ralph couldn’t help but admire headquarters in its vacancy, as he noisily pushed through the mulberry break. It was easy to assume it was vacant, in such a stillness that let his innocent thwart of leaves sound as harsh as that of a weed cutter. It certainly was something to behold, when there weren't boys swinging from the oak’s limbs like trapeze artists.</p>
<p>The branches of the large plant stretched for several meters, the light illuminating the air underneath them a rich green under its extensive leaves. The house itself, suspended above the grass on the arteries of such a plant, was built without walls. It bore a ceiling, a floor, and a fence bordering that floor in its triangular shape. The wood ceiling mirrored the shape of the floor, only lacking the hole in its center where the trunk of the oak led through.  </p>
<p>The fair boy came to the ladder that trailed up the monster tree, and began to climb. Midway up, the boy acknowledged the white paned windows on both Jack’s and Piggy’s neighboring cottages. Continuing, he gasped in delight at the gust of wind flying through his shock of fair hair. Once he reached the hatch and heaved himself up, immediately did he tear off his backpack and blazer. Ralph tossed them aside and ran his fingers across his scalp. Untying his tie, and catching his breath, Ralph relished in the air hitting his newly exposed skin, and fluttering in his polo. The breeze drifted faster from this new position high above the ground.</p>
<p>“What took you so damned long?”</p>
<p>Pricked another voice.</p>
<p>“Uh!”</p>
<p>Ralph jumped, tumbling backward at the sound. The air was knocked straight out of him when his bottom hit the wood platform. With that now, he had himself a clear view of the source of such an attitude. nobody none other than—</p>
<p>“Jack!”</p>
<p>Reprimanded Ralph.</p>
<p>“Jaaaack!”</p>
<p>Jack mimicked, lips curled in a sneer.</p>
<p>“What took so long?”</p>
<p>He repeated.</p>
<p>Merridew was sat on one of the many bean-bags they had spread across the triangular platform.</p>
<p>They were arranged in a rhombus and each biggun had one assigned to them. Even Sam and Eric had individual seats-- them both being blue, Roger’s red, Ralph’s green, and only naturally had Jack chosen the grandest one. During that moment, most of the boys just chose simply in light of their favorite color. But once their decisions were made, it was clear Jack just wanted the seat mightiest. Maybe it was its position, nestled in one of the diamond’s four angles instead of a side, or it’s rich black fabric— but stupidly it seemed a beacon of power. Ralph’s seat sat in the angle adjacent to Jack’s, to his left. Only he didn’t bother sitting in it now.</p>
<p>With his thick yet shapely eyebrows furrowed, the boy with fair hair utilized his unanticipated landing pose in pulling up his stockings; as if  he meant to all along. Brushing himself off, he wiped sweat from his cheek using the upper of his right arm and pushed off the ground from his haunches to stand. <br/><br/></p>
<p>“Just walking Piggy home… You can’t be blaming me for thinking you wouldn’t show after last time!”</p>
<p>Head swinging, he threw this accusation at the other. Jack responded dryly.</p>
<p>“Too right I can, you didn’t try bringing fatty with you this time.”  </p>
<p>“Well…”</p>
<p>Ralph stiffened at a revelation. Piggy could hardly climb. Jack had waited to see if anyone else besides him was coming up the tree. Because, without Piggy, Ralph had no reason to wait on the ground. Abandoning his discarded bag and blazer, Ralph advanced further forward.</p>
<p>“Piggy was right to avoid you.”</p>
<p>“Oh don’t start about him! I didn’t wait to know he was gone just so you could bring him up anyway!”</p>
<p>Ralph frowned deeply. Jack had gotten better about his hatred. He refrained from calling Piggy names, (at least in his presence) and didn’t fuss when he was included in. But this was a trace of the old ways. When they undervalued the fat boy.</p>
<p>“Don’t go watching people like that again! s’creepy!”</p>
<p>Jack rolled his eyes at all this nagging and the mention of another. Hissing, Jack found his feet.</p>
<p>“S’not hard to look out a window, Ralph. But maybe I wouldn’t if he wasn’t so damn easy to see.”</p>
<p>“Shut up!”</p>
<p>Ralph barked.</p>
<p>In the pit of silence after this, Ralph dismissed this entire topic by turning, and crossing his arms.</p>
<p>Amusement found Jack’s freckled face and with a curious nod he acknowledged the shine of sweat on Ralph’s knees.</p>
<p>“Did you try climbing over the mulberry?”</p>
<p>He teased.</p>
<p>Reluctantly, Ralph responded.</p>
<p>“I climbed over Piggy’s fence.”</p>
<p>“Wow.. he didn’t even loan you his second key!”</p>
<p>Said Jack, rudely. The ginger’s pale arms crossed too as he pivoted himself towards the wooden barrier, the one acting as a warning of where the floor came to an end. Ralph remained mostly unbothered by Jack’s sour remarks, and threw his exhausted body down against Maurice’s beanbag. From this more comfortable position parallel to the platform, he watched Merridew’s spotty and lanky sixteen-year-old body lean over the railing.</p>
<p>“Must’ve lost it..”</p>
<p>Assumed the boy with fair hair.</p>
<p>“Or ..gave it to somebody else.”</p>
<p>Jack breathed, reading off an equation at first he dared not comprehend. His fists soon untwined at the elbow and gripped the oak rail tensely. Ralph’s lips parted but his words proved lost behind his teeth. He was enthralled by the fear and surprise he had thought he detected. Doubt was evident in his judgments, however, he couldn’t see Merridew’s crumpled face. However, the vigour in which the choirboy reached for his pocket told Ralph that any panic resonating in him had already dispersed, and exploded. He was fetching his stress ball.</p>
<p>“Sorry?”</p>
<p>Was all the fair boy could muster in terms of questions.</p>
<p>“Roger.”</p>
<p>And that was all the redhead could muster in terms of answers.</p>
<p>With that, the confused blonde boy heaved himself back off his rump and approached the other blindly. Faintly he perceived laughter, stifled and hazy with distance. Soon he reached the railing, and from the height of the great old oak beyond the mulberry wall; Ralph recognized through the closed window of the faded yellow home, the angular silhouette he only barely grew to trust. Only in its company, there was unmistakably, Piggy.</p>
<p>“So that’s why he….?”</p>
<p>“Replaced you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that.”</p>
<p>“Well he did. And Roger-”</p>
<p>Jack’s freckled forearm flexed, its end still buried inconspicuously in his pocket. Ralph decided quickly that he’d address that later. Ralph shook his head, witnessing his company grit his teeth as he pondered.</p>
<p>“What about him? I don’t understand..”</p>
<p>The boy with fair hair leaned along the barrier with his intent and concerned gaze locked on his friend. The stillness of a solution overcame Jack before he could sit.</p>
<p>“It’s that <em> book </em>.”</p>
<p>cursed Merridew. Whirling around on his heel, the redhead abandoned the railing.</p>
<p>“Since… since friday. That’s when he stopped talking.”</p>
<p>he thought aloud, beginning to pace. Ralph turned with him, but kept his position by the wooden paling.</p>
<p>“The carpool?”</p>
<p>“Yes! Then-”</p>
<p>“And what you mean- ‘Stopped talking’?”</p>
<p>“Maybe if you let me <em> finish </em> I’d <em> get </em>there.”</p>
<p>The fair boy flushed at this warning, saying nothing.</p>
<p>“When his auntie dropped us off..”</p>
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